Aine
by HottiesGirl
Summary: The beginning of Part II: Rewrite of the Two Towers
1. Default Chapter

Meant to Be  
A Rewrite of "The Fellowship of the Ring"  
  
  
The council was quite quickly getting out of hand as the angry voices of elves, dwarves, and other folk rose in protest. Only a few stood quiet, listening, looking disturbed. I myself was very unhappy with this set of events: if we could not even come to a consensus about what to do now, how would whatever we decided to do succeed? Suddenly, the Frodo's voice broke the din:  
"I will take it. I will take the Ring to Mordor," he said, firmly. His voice faltered - "Though I know not the way."  
I almost dropped my hood to see more clearly, but restrained myself. I stood near the back of the crowd, in a long red cloak, the hood drawn close around my face. The time to reveal myself had not yet come.  
There was dead silence and I suddenly saw the face of Gandalf grow old and wearied, as if to say, "Frodo, no … he has suffered enough." Then, he stepped forward and spoke to Frodo, signifying that indeed Frodo would take the Ring:  
"I will help you bear this burden for as long as it is yours to bear."  
Aragorn then stepped forward, a long stride that took him to Frodo in two steps.  
"If by my life or my death I can protect you, I will." He knelt. "You have my sword."  
Legolas then came forward.  
"And you have my bow."  
Finally, Gimi the dwarf:  
"And my axe!"  
Boromir of Gondor was the last to speak.   
"You carry the fate of us all, little one. But if this is truly the will of the council, Gondor will see it done."  
At that moment, I came forward.   
  
Aragorn watched the figure glide almost soundlessly towards the hobbit. Whoever it was, he was thin and tall. His features were hidden by the long, red cloak that he wore. But as Aragorn watched, the hood was dropped. He sucked in his breath, for not only was a woman concealed under the hood, but also the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. His eyes flew to Gandalf's, whose own were warm with recognition.   
  
I knelt by Frodo, touching his hand,  
"You shall have not only my speed, but also whatever protection I may offer."  
Frodo looked to Gandalf, who nodded.   
"Aine will be a valuable asset to the company."  
Sam suddenly ran in.   
"Here!" He cried. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."   
Elrond's face twisted between amusement and anger.  
"Indeed, it is hardly possible to separate the two of you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not. Very well."  
Merry and Pippin suddenly barged in.   
"We're going, too! You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to keep us away!"   
Pippin added boldly,   
"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing." "Well, that rules you out, Pip." Pippin did not respond to the caustic nature of Merry's comment until a second later, and he bridled proudly.   
Elrond spoke again.  
"Ten companions. So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."  
"Great. Now, where are we going?" asked Pippin.   
  
* * *  
  
It was early the next morning and Aragorn was walking down the stable row, preparing to choose his mount for the journey. He could hear the softest of voices coming from one of the stalls, and he stopped to listen, for it was a music strange to him, common to both the elves and strangely enough, to the rangers.   
May it be an evening star  
shines down upon you.  
May it be when darkness falls,   
your heart will be true.   
You walk a lonely road,   
oh how far you are from home …"  
The voice lapsed into the silven language of the elves. Aragorn walked to the source of the sound. Aine looked back at him from where she was grooming a gigantic white horse that had a beautiful, powerful look about it. She eyed him, but did not stop singing until she had reached the end.   
"You have a beautiful voice," said Aragorn, uneasily. He was still unsure of how he felt about a woman joining the company. He feared she would hold them up, but he would not go against Gandalf.   
She smiled at him.   
"Thank you."  
"I cannot place your music. Where do you descend from?"  
"A mixed background. You will not approve, future king of Gondor."  
"Try me," Aragorn said, with a slight smile that almost mirrored the jesting one on her own.  
"My mother was half elf, half man and my father a ranger. You are surprised."  
It was not a question.  
Aragorn chuckled.   
"I cannot pass judgment on the ways of others."  
"Then you are wiser than many," she responded.   
His glance passed reluctantly from her face to her mount.   
"A beautiful animal. Illian?"  
"Yes."  
"There are few who can ride the Illian horses. They descend from far ago and away; they avoid these present days, for their power is too strong. I've never seen one ridden for many years."  
"Very true. You are well versed in their ways, I can tell, for she does not resent you."  
"A mare?"  
"Yes."  
"And you can ride her?"  
"You doubt me."  
Aragorn smiled.   
"Only a little."  
Aine shrugged. Doubt was no stranger to her mind.  
  
* * *  
  
I swung aboard Alinea and clucked for her to take a few steps out of the way of the dwarf, who rode an unruly pony. I wore no saddle, only a bridle, and as Aragorn rode out on his stallion, I could tell he was still in doubt. I chuckled. I felt no need to prove myself then. He would see soon enough.   
Sam was aboard his precious Bill, the same old pony from Bree. Poor Sam. He would have trouble, should we have to part from the horses. I had talked long with Frodo and Gandalf the night before and was well aware of all that had transpired since events had been set in motion with Bilbo's finding of the Ring.   
We set off at a brisk trot. I barely touched the reigns, for Alinea behaved well. Aragorn rode up beside me. I nodded a greeting.   
"You are well armed …" he said. "Sword, bow, quiver, scimitar …"  
"I take no chances," I said, smiling. The dagger was held under his throat before he could respond, and we both chuckled. I stuck it back down in my boot, pushing my same red cape aside.   
  
* * *   
  
A lone rider came galloping through the woods, toward the company. He rode a dark horse and for one wild moment, I thought it was a Nazgul. As he approached, though, I realized it was a man. His features were entirely hidden by dark garb, except for strangely purplish eyes that stared out from under the hood.   
"Is the one known as Strider here?" His voice was strangely high, but forced, masked.   
Aragorn stepped foreward.   
"You are trailed. An army of orcs follows you. They are not far behind. Be on your guard, for they move quietly, and under cover."  
"You know this how?"  
"I have seen them." The rider turned quite suddenly, and disappeared under cover of darkness.   
"Orcs!" Legolas hissed.   
I smiled grimly. It would be out first encounter with the warrior's of Sauron.   
"How far?" asked Gimli.   
"No way of knowing … not too far, I should think," said Aragorn, drawing his blade.   
"If you will allow me," I said, trying to defer to the leader, "I will scout ahead and behind."  
"You would go even if I did not allow it," said Aragorn.   
I smiled.  
"In only a week you know too much about me." I clucked to Alinea and cantered off.   
  
Aragorn was impressed thus far. Though they had come up against no real adversary, her riding skills were polished, and she had a keen intelligence. She seemed to understand even the souls of those in the company around her. She was fond of, but distrustful of Boromir, as Aragorn felt himself, and seemed to trust so completely in Frodo that he was sometimes surprised. She seemed to show no specific feelings towards Aragorn himself, though, and for this he was confused.   
"We will stop here -" said Gandalf, breaking into his thoughts. "And wait."  
  
* * *  
  
The first notice they had the Aine was returning was the sound of her whooping and spurring her Illian on. Aragorn and Legolas raced to the edge of the precipice they stood on and looked down over the valley at the foot of the mountain Caradhras. She was racing hell-bent away from an army of sixty orcs, at least. She was laying on the animal's side with the broad-side of her sword, and as they watched, she turned skillfully around and shot a few arrows over her shoulder. Every one hit its mark. They realized, suddenly, that she did not Alinea, but Shadowfax, the most treasured horse in Middle Earth, a Rohan animal. Where Alinea was, they did not know, but it was obvious that Shadowfax had been drawn to her.  
They were still too far out of range for the arrows of the elf and the ranger, but they were fast nearing.   
"GO TO THE SIDE!" Aine bellowed. "I WILL LEAD THEM THERE - YOU ARE LOST IF YOU FIGHT FROM THERE!"   
She was right - they were by not means in a defendable position. The company hastened to change positions. She came tearing into view, a fresh arrow imbedded all the way through her shoulder, but she seemed not to feel it. She spurred the animal up the hill to stand by the companions. She did not wait for them to speak, only gasped out,   
"There were eighty - perhaps sixty-five, seventy remain, and they seek the taste of blood. They will not kill the hobbits - hide them!"   
"You're wounded!" Legolas cried.   
"Shut up and give me some arrows - Mine are spent."  
He complied and soon the orcs came into view.   
  
* * *   
  
Aragorn watched with pure amazement as the elven-ranger loosed as many bows as Legolas himself, with as much precision. As the orcs drew closer, she drew the blade at her side, a long sword, a man's sword that shined like polished silver. She met the orcs head on with a fiery fierceness and a vengeance. She swung her blade left and right and seemed heedless of the arrow still protruding from her shoulder. Aragorn fought as fiercely, near to her side to make sure that should she fall because of her wound, he would be nearby.   
  
I looked over between orcs. Aragorn fought with a fierceness I had never seen equaled. He was nearby to me, I knew, protecting me should I fall because of my wound. It was kind of him and I was grateful. So caught up in the moment was I, however, adrenaline pumping, that I did not feel the arrow. I would rue it later, I knew. I threw my full body-weight into a nearby orc and I plunged my dagger into its skull, while skewering a second one with a ferocious joy. God, how I longed to kill every one of them! My mind fled back to that day, long ago … I threw my blade left and right and felt them sink around me, and suddenly spun, feeling the presence of one behind me.  
"Aine!" Gimli cried, but he was half a second too late, and I was shoved backwards to the ground. I cried out for my fall had wrenched the arrow. The orc raised his sword. I knew he would have me in a second, there was no time to rise - then the orc fell forward, the sword of Aragorn, the sword that was Broken then made Whole again, sunk deep into his back.   
"Thank you!" I gasped and moved to stand again.   
"Stay down!" Aragorn hissed, and planted his feet by my side.   
"Aragorn! I'm fine!" I lied through my teeth - my fall has brought the pain of the arrow to me.   
"Stay still!" Aragorn stood over me, slaying as many orcs as two. After a few moments, the remaining few fled.   
I sat up as Aragorn moved back, weakly propping myself up on one arm. He knelt beside me.   
"Mind yanking this out?" I asked. "It's in somewhat of an awkward position."  
  
Aragorn looked down at Aine's shoulder in dismay. The arrow had penetrated all the way through. He knew as soon as it was removed, there would be a river of blood.   
Legolas hurried over and pulled something out of a sack he carried.   
"The orc tips are poisoned - put this on it - kingsflower."  
"It's got to come out first, Legolas -" Aragorn said angrily.   
Aine looked at them, irritated.   
"Will one of you just pull this damn thing out and not stand there arguing?"  
She was in pain, he could tell, and had no patience for bickering.   
"All right -" he said, soothingly. "Here -"   
"Wait -" she said, and grabbed a stick from the ground to grit her teeth on.  
Aragorn broke off the feathered side of the arrow and as gently as possible pulled it the rest of the way through. She gritted her teeth and snapped the stick.   
"Agh!" she winced as the arrow finally came all the way through.   
Blood flowed freely and Aragorn pressed the kingsflower onto the wound from both sides. He held rags against it that became almost immediately saturated in blood. She was breathing heavily and it worried Aragorn. Her eyes looked misty and he knew she was losing consciousness as quickly as she was losing blood. As she went limp in his arms, he looked up at Legolas and gently laid her down.   
"This is beyond my skill to heal," he said.   
Legolas nodded.   
"He needs the medicine of your people, but we are far from them - it would be unwise to turn back to Rivendell, but perhaps one of us can ride her there -"  
"We cannot spare two - her and her savior - but to save her it may be necessary."  
"Gandalf!" Aragorn said suddenly.   
"My God! We'd forgotten!" said Gimli, shocked. He went in search of wizard and hobbits. He found them shortly and returned with them.   
Gandalf pushed Aragorn out of the way and knelt down beside Aine. Running his hands lightly over the wound, he shook his head.   
"The poison has already begun to take effect. I can do nothing here… she may have a chance if we make for the Waters of Ennëiä."  
"It's a two day ride from here!" said Gimli, distressed.   
Aragorn did not pause. He lifted her up gently in his arms and began to run.   
  
* * *  
  
The group of ridermarks approached Aragorn at a gallop and drew reign sharply before him. He saluted them and their leader returned the gesture.   
"I am Aragorn, heir of Isildur and I bear Aine, rider of Shadowfax."  
"Your name is known to us, but the name of Aine is precious to us. Prove to us that it is you who carries her."  
Aragorn laid Aine gently at his feet and drew his sword.   
"Behold, the Sword that was Broken and Remade!" he cried. The men of Rohan bowed deferentially. Aragorn sheathed the weapon and lifting Aine, he said,   
"I make for the Waters of Ennëiä, for she has been wounded by the arrow of an orc. I ask you for loan of a horse."   
"When Aine leaped from his back not long ago, he returned to us and now is amongst us. We will return him to his true companion."  
Éomer, their leader, whistled, and the white form of Shadowfax appeared. Aragorn wasted no time in lifting Aine onto him and vaulting on board himself. He threw a salute to the Riders of Rohan and galloped off. For a day and a night Shadowfax bore them speedily. Aine was fading fast and Aragorn prayed desperately. In vain, he spoke elvish to Shadowfax, but he already ran as fast as he was able.   
"Nirolim, nirolim asfolath…"  
  
* * *  
  
The Lake of Ennëiä was not large, but it was deep, sloping off steeply from the perfectly rounded and green banks. Not a blade of grass seemed out of place. He gently stripped her down to her undergarments and immersed her in the healing waters. They flowed over the wound, and as Aragorn watched it began to close. The blood-stains leaked out of her clothes. She shuddered and slowly opened her eyes. He lifted her out of the waters. Blinking in the sunlight, she asked,   
"Where are we?"  
"The Lake of Ennëiä. Shh, rest…"  
"I never rest," she said, smiling at him, but she relaxed in his arms.   
"Tell me …" he said. "How is it that you happened to come upon Shadowfax? Where is Alinea?"  
"I rode into that mass of orcs and as I rode out, I knew that Alinea could not outrun them. She has endless stamina, but her speed is not too difficult to match. Shadowfax was called to the aid of the Ringbearer, for he has met me before. I am friend to the Riders of Rohan." Aragorn nodded, understanding.   
"We must ride back to the others, and then continue to Caradhras. We will rest here an hour more, and your strength will have returned."   
She nodded.  
  
The four hobbits rushed to embrace me as soon as Aragorn and I rode into camp and dismounted. Legolas touched me on the arm gently, and Gimli laughed. Gandalf was silent, but he smiled at me.  
"I am well enough to continue, as you all seem to worry. Let us move onwards to Caradhras."   
  
Aragorn watched her battle as bravely as the rest through the snow. She had inherited from her half-elf mother the ability not to feel the cold, but she could not walk on the snow like Legolas. She burrowed her way through the snow, humming softly under her breath. She was always humming, Aragorn noticed, when she wasn't singing. She had the most beautiful voice. She sang in the tongues of the ages, but her voice was young and pure. He recognized what she hummed now as a hobbit tale that Sam had taught her a few nights before.   
  
The Road goes ever on …  
  
Aragorn did not know but the first line, but as she hummed it, it began to come back to him through the magic of her voice.   
The snow was coming down heavily now. Aragorn looked up as Legolas called back from his high place on the snow,   
"There is a fell voice upon the air!"   
"It's Saruman!" yelled Gandalf. At that moment, there was a crack and snow began to come pouring down off the mountain.   
"He's trying to bring down the mountain!"   
They were almost instantly buried. Legolas and Aine were the first to rise to the top of the snow, followed shortly all of the company save Frodo.   
"Where is he?" cried Sam. "Frodo!? Mr. Frodo!"   
The fellowship began to dig furiously. Their hands, already split from cold, left red streaks in the snow. Aine could almost not be seen from digging.   
"He was near me when we were buried!" she said, furiously. "I know he's here!"  
Seconds later, she cried:   
"I've found him! Boromir, help me!"   
Together they dug the frozen hobbit out. Boromir slung him over his shoulder and the company rushed down the mountain as fast as safely possible.   
  
They stripped Frodo out of his wet clothes and pulled a some dry ones over him, warming him by the fire. He was blue with cold. Sam sat rubbing him furiously as Gandalf mixed some brew to revive him. Gandalf forced it down his throat and soon Frodo began to stir. After a moment, he opened his eyes.   
"Where am I?"  
"You are at the foot of Caradhras," Boromir answered.   
Frodo sat up, shivering. Aine smiled at him.   
"Feeling better? Took us forever to find you," she said, kindly. The relief she was feeling was more immense than she let on. The Ringbearer was safe. Evil was so drawn to him, it was a wonder he was not dead. And so much depended upon him. She turned to face Aragorn, questioning him silently as to what they would do now.  
"We will rest here tonight, and plot our next move."   
They all nodded.   
  
Aine was bent low over the fire, mixing some thick concoction. Pippin was watching interestedly.   
"What's that?"   
"A liniment for your hands. They were so cut up by the snow."  
"And why not your own?"  
"I inherited a few things from my grandmother's side of the family," she said with a smile. "Legolas' are fine as well. And Gimli's hide is so tough, he was unhurt. Gandalf is as well fine. You hobbits, I fear, are a different story." Pippin smiled and ruefully examined his hands. Aine pulled the small pot off of the fire and reached for Pippin's hands. As she spread the ointment over his hands, she called the other three over, who came willingly.   
  
Aragorn sat alone, as usual, by the edge of the encampment, ever watchful of the dark. I walked over to him. He was so brave, so wise, and I respected him greatly. I felt better just to be near him. I sat down beside him.   
"Let me see your hands," I commanded.   
"They're fine -" he said, but I pulled them over regardless.   
As I spread the thick salve over the scraped knuckles, I asked,   
"Why so heavy-hearted? Frodo is fine."   
"I fear the road we must know take. I am as Gandalf-I wish to avoid Moria at all costs. But it remains the last open road."  
"Yes … I too fear the road to Moria. I fear Gimli is sad mistaken about the aura that surrounds it."  
"The whole journey is ill-fated, I fear."  
"It is one I relish to be a part of."   
"Why is that?"  
"That, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, is something I will never speak of."  
Aragorn shrugged.   
"Perhaps."  
  
It was late, and the fire burned low. Seven of the ten companions lay sleeping. Aragorn was gone, off scouting somewhere in the dark, and Legolas sat alone by the fire. Aine lay on her bedroll, unsuccessfully attempting sleep. As she lay there, she suddenly realized that someone was singing, low, in elvish. She recognized the voice to be Legolas'.   
  
Lastobeth a ninya leotemalina ...  
oha Erindilia  
Neea galad tobeth.   
  
Aine smiled at the simple, but poignant love song he sang. He was quite obviously making it up as he went along, and it was as beautiful as it was simple. Slipping out of her bedroll, she sat down beside him. He looked up, startled.   
"Who is she? This woman you sing of?"  
"The woman I love. She waits for me in Lórien."  
"What's she like?"  
"Beautiful ... she has fought beside me, in small skirmishes, and saved my life once. She bears a scar for it."  
Aine smiled.   
"She reminds me of you ... quick, brave, smart, faithful..." he trailed off, lost in his own thoughts. After a moment, he spoke again.   
"I fear for her. In these times of darkness..."  
"We all fear for loved ones, if we have them." Aine's voice was soft, and suddenly masked.   
  
"The Walls!" cried Gimli.   
The company approached the walls of Moria apprehensively, except for Gimli, who was enthusiastic.   
"Dwarf walls are ….."  
"Yes, Gimli, even their masters cannot find them, once their secrets are forgotten."  
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas and Aine spoke in unison, and they looked at one another and laughter, tensely.   
  
"Strider!" screamed Frodo. Some sort of monster from the water had Frodo secured in its tentacle and had lifted him off the ground and was swinging him far above the water. Sam leaped in and cut off the tentacle, then a dozen more pushed the hobbits away and grabbed Frodo a second time. Aragorn , Boromir, and I leapt into the water and began to chop off tentacles. When a head showed, and a giant mouth, Legolas puts arrows in it. Aragorn chopped off the tentacle holding Frodo and Boromir caught him as he fell. Legolas put an arrow in one of the Kraken's eyes, for Kraken he was called. This gave Aragorn, Boromir, and Aine time to get out of the water  
"INTO THE MINES!" cried Gandalf.   
They retreated to the mine. Kraken crumbled the gate behind them. Suddenly all was dark and only the last crumblings of the door to the mine could be heard. At length, Gandalf spoke, lighting a stone that fitted neatly into the top of his staff.  
"Now we have but one choice. We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard! There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world. It is a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope our presence may go unnoticed."  
  
The last words of Gandalf the Grey before he fell into the shadow, following the balrog were, "Fly, you fools!"  
The world went quite suddenly silent for me. I knew the others were yelling, and I could vaguely hear Frodo crying, but otherwise I was temporarily stunned. Aragorn had to grab my arm and fling me out of the passage that was thick with flying arrows.   
When we at last surfaced on the other side, it was a sad group that rested on the rocks. The hobbits were crying. Legolas had a confused face - death was so little a part of his lifestyle, that he was having trouble comprehending what had happened.   
I sat down numbly, and stared downward into the rocks. How could Gandalf the Grey have fallen? He was a wizard. Wizards were … somehow, invincible? I bit my lip and corrosive tears poured silently down my cheeks.   
I heard Aragorn's voice.   
"Legolas, get them up."   
Boromir cried, angrily,   
"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!"  
"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs!" I heard the pain in his voice. "Legolas, Boromir - Gimli! Get them up! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien." His voice softened, and he turned to Sam, the nearest to him, and pulled him to his feet.   
"On your feet, Sam." He patted him on the shoulder. He turned and knelt down by me.   
"Come along, Aine."  
I caste him a weary look. To my great surprise, he put an arm around me and half-lifted me to my feet.   
"There will be rest in Lothlórien," he said.   
  
It took us less time that expected to reach the woods of Lothlórien. Only Gimli was originally apprehensive, but he soon spread this to the hobbits.   
"Stay close, young hobbits. They say a great sorceress lives here, an elf-witch of terrible power. All those who look upon her fall under her spell, and are never seen again."   
I saw Frodo freeze and wondered what was going on. He seemed to be listening to something, and I wondered what. I watched him, concerned. My concentration was broken as Gimli spoke again.  
"Well, this is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily! I have the eyes of a hawk, and the ears of a fox!"  
Suddenly, we were all surrounded by elves with drawn bows.   
One spoke:  
"The dwarf breathes so loudly we could have shot him in the dark." Gimli looked insulted. Aragorn bowed.   
"Haldir of Lorien. We have come for help. We need your protection." Gimli's face contorted.  
"Aragorn, these woods are perilous! We should go back!"   
"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back. Come. She is waiting," said Haldir. He led us forward towards the elven city in the trees. I had never looked up Lothlórien and I was blown away by its beauty. It was surrounded by lovely lighted trees and I felt a sense of peace. We were brought before Celeborn and Galadriel. They were both regal and terrible, and I felt a sense of undeniable power about them. Celeborn spoke.  
"Eight there are here, but nine there were set out from Rivendell. Where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him." Galadriel's eyes met Aragorn's. She spoke, softly.  
"He is fallen into shadow." She looked to each of the company in turn, and each in turn looked down, save Legolas, Frodo, and Aragorn. Her eyes fell to me. I stared directly to them and felt myself quiver. Suddenly, I questioned myself. Why did I need to keep the glance? I looked down, submitting graciously to her power. She spoke again.   
"The quest stands on the edge of a knife, stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains as long as the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now, and rest, for you are weary with toil and much sorrow. Tonight you shall sleep in peace."   
  
Legolas walked down the pathway towards where the company rested.   
"I lament for Gandalf," he said. He tipped his head and we all listened to the elven songs of mourning for the wizard.  
"What do they say about him?" asked Sam, his voice hushed and awed.   
"I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still to near," Legolas responded. It was the closest I had ever seen him to showing true, almost human-sadness, save the moment outside of the mines.   
Sam, adjusting his bedroll, said,   
"I bet they don't talk about his fireworks. There ought to be a verse about them." He stood, suddenly.   
  
The finest rockets ever seen:  
They burst in stars of blue and green.   
  
Gimli began to snore softly, already asleep before Sam had begun. Aragorn looked at him disgustedly and struck him. Sam's voice faltered, but he continued. I watched him, eyes misting over, knowing his roughly-hewn poetry was more poignant than any the elves could create.   
  
L  
They co  
  
I walked over to Sam and dropped a light kiss on his check and smiled nostalgically down at him. Aragorn approached me, took my arm, and we walked away from the small group. We wandered, silently, among the trees of Lothlórien.   
"The passing of Gandalf saddens me," he said, at last.   
I chuckled.   
"Very demonstrative of you," I said. He smiled slightly.   
We walked further along and it took him a moment to realize that she was crying. He stopped and turned to face her head on, looking directly into her eyes.   
  
Aragorn felt almost light-headed, as if he had strayed into a dream. Slowly, he ran a light hand across her shoulder and curved his fingers around her chin. She looked at him, her eyes quiet, and lashes heavy and wet. Almost impulsively, he kissed her. She responded. For one moment, time stood still and Aine admitted to herself something she had been scared to before.  
  
Galadriel came to me last, after Aragorn. She slipped the Ring of skskks off her finger.   
"I give you the Ring of 002, for you will have more need of it than I. Do not let it fall into the hands of Saruman."   
I bowed.   
  
We rode in three small boats, gifted too us by the elves. I sat in a boat with Aragorn and Frodo.   
"Frodo." Aragorn touched him on the shoulder. "he Aragornath. Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old, my kin."  
Two enormous statues of men in armor flanked the river, their left hands outstretched in a gesture of warding. We went past them, into a lake, where we found an old moorage and beached out boats. As we climbed out of the boats and unloaded, Aragorn said,  
"We cross at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."   
Gimli made a face of disgust.   
"Oh? Just a simple matter of finding our way across Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks! And then it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands as far as the eye can see!"   
"That is our road, sir dwarf. Perhaps you should take some rest, and recover your strength."  
Gimli was at a loss for words and for a moment, he sputtered helplessly.   
"Recover my...!"   
I saw Legolas approach Aragorn and speak softly to him. I knew what he would say.  
Meanwhile, Gimli was still stewing over Aragorn's comment.   
"Recover my strength! Pay no heed to that, young hobbits." Merry returned from gathering firewood. Looking around, he asked,  
"Where is Frodo?"   
"Boromir is also missing," I said, anxiously, looking about.   
Aragorn set off in search of them. It wasn't long before we heard the sounds of orcs.   
  
"Go, Frodo! Go!" Aragorn cried. Frodo ran off and Aragorn drew his sword. He walked slowly around the corner, blessing his blade in front of him. He faced a dozen or more orcs and Uruk-hai. His silent demeanor suddenly burst into a wave of fury that took out double the amount of orcs as his usual tally. Gimli, Legolas, and Aine appeared and fought with a fury. Orc and Uruk-hai fell left and right. Abruptly, there was a deep, bronze call that shook the very air of the surrounding area.   
"The horn of Gondor!" said Legolas, turning.   
"Boromir!" Aragorn cried, and took off.   
  
Legolas, Gimli, and I raced to where we thought Aragorn and Boromir fought. We stopped short at the sight of Aragorn standing up from stooping over the fallen body of Boromir. Many arrows protruded from his chest. I sighed softly.   
"They will look for his coming from the White Tower. But he will not return," said Aragorn, quietly, his voice slightly pained.   
We let the river take Boromir, and as we sadly watched, Aragorn began to softly sing.   
  
  
What news of Boromir the Bold? For he is long away.  
Beaneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.   
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.   
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;  
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.  
O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze  
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.   
  
* * *   
  
"Hurry!" Legolas cried. "Frodo and Sam have reached the Eastern Shore!"   
Aragorn did not respond, only finished hooking Boromir's gloves onto his arms.   
Legolas looked at him.   
"You mean not to follow them."  
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands."  
Gimli's face fell and he said, angrily,   
"Then it has all been in vain. The fellowship has failed."  
I looked to Aragorn, half-upset, not quite understanding.   
"Not if we hold true to each other," said Aragorn, placing a hand on Gimli and Legolas' shoulders. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death." I grinned. Aragorn stepped back. "Leave everything that can be spared behind. We travel light." He slid a knife into its sheath with a click. "Let us hunt some orc!"  
Legolas grinned and Gimli roared in joy. I gave a laugh, and whooped. The four remaining members of the fellowship raced off through the trees, in pursuit of orc, hungry for their blood. We raced for the plains of Rohan.   
  
Aragorn's face was laid heavy with exhaustion and grief. Slightly gray, he strode into the small encampment, returned from scouting. Legolas and Gimli looked up.  
"Where is Aine?" asked Legolas, concerned.   
Aragorn did not speak, only walked over to the far side of the fire, and sat down. He put his head in his hands, a gesture of complete defeat. Legolas stood and knelt beside Aragorn.   
"Aragorn - where is she? Speak, friend - "  
"She is gone," Aragorn said softly.   
"Gone? You mean she is…" Legolas' voice faltered, "…dead?"  
"If she isn't now, she soon will be."  
Legolas stared, not comprehending. Death was still not quite a familiar part of his lifestyle. He was still struggling to understand the loss of Gandalf and Boromir.   
Aragorn looked up and took a tired breath.   
"We were beset by Uruk-hai. We were badly beaten. She looked as dead, but she may have still breathed. They carried her off. I shudder to -" he broke off, stood, and stroke into the bushes. Legolas heard him gagging. He returned in a moment, one hand held lightly to his chest, where the Ring of 929 now lay. She had thrown it to him, seconds before she had lost consciousness, perhaps before she had died, whispering: "Give it to Legolas!" Already he felt it making him tired, grim, and strangely attached to it. How had she carried it so lightly? He would not speak any more of the events of the day, ever, to anyone. He couldn't bear it, and Aragorn could bear anything. The woman he loved was gone forever and he feared he would be swept away as well by the tide that had taken her soul.   
He would not stop the quest, though… it had meant so much to her, that he couldn't fail her. He remember the night, only a fortnight ago…  
  
Aine was humming softly, a tune Aragorn didn't recognize. He stood behind her and she was unaware of his presence. She was so beautiful … he could barely comprehend her existence. He stepped over the log she was sitting on and sat down beside her. She started and looked to him, then quickly turned her head away and ran a hand over her eyes. He caught her wrist and pulled it away from her face. With his other hand, he tipped her chin towards him.   
"Why do you weep?"  
"An old memory."  
She paused, seeing the question in his eyes.   
"You killed so many orc today - I have never seen such hate possess someone, compounded by some hidden grief. It is that. What happened?"  
She took a shuddering breath.   
"Last year, during the rising of the Ring of Power, a group of Sauron's orcs invaded my village - a small, peaceful place, doing no harm to him, to anyone… they … slaughtered every being inside but a few who escaped… my family, my friends, senselessly. I watched, from a hundred yards off, while they hacked my mother and brother and sisters to bits… every now and then one of them would come back and sink his blade into their skulls again. I had to stay put, terrified the fire-light would give away my hiding spot. It did … they did not kill me, but -" she broke off as her voice broke and Aragorn understood what had happened, understood suddenly why the only contact she could stand was from sword to flesh.   
She had suffered so much, and it made him long to hold her all the more, to let her cry, to let her know that it would be all right. He placed the gentlest of hands on her forearm and looked her in the eye. Her deep brown eyes watched his gray ones, afraid of what he would think of her because of what she had told him.   
"I can think of nothing to say," he said at last. "I wish that I could erase your past, for you are undeserving of it. I can think of no one who more deserves a peaceful one."  
She seemed relieved, and he pulled her into his arms. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she relaxed into his arms. He spoke a few words softly in elvish, and she looked at him suddenly.   
Their kiss was long and passionate, beautiful … Aine suddenly felt safe.   
  
Aragorn shook the memory from his mind. Every thought she seemed to invade, and it brought fresh waves of pain that threatened to tear him apart, to cause him to lose all control. Legolas was watching him, uncertainly.   
"You are sure?"  
"Yes. If I thought there was any hope, I would follow - but she was grievously injured. I would ride, to reclaim her body, but I fear I cannot bear it."  
"I would -"  
"No. But there is one burden I would ask you to bear. Take the Ring of 929, which she gave to me. She said for me to entrust it to you."  
Legolas took the ring from Aragorn's palm. Neither realized that Aragorn had halfway escaped the fate that he had so feared.   
  
* * *  
  
Groggily, I shook the sleep from my head, and was immediately sorry I had done so, for pain was everywhere. I felt enveloped in a world of it, a mist. It pervaded everything. I felt so close to death. When I had control of my senses again, I opened my eyes. I was lying chained in a huge stone chamber. A tall man, quite obviously a wizard, with a long, smooth mane and beard sat at a desk. He looked over as I stirred. I knew instantly who he was. Before he could speak, I hissed,   
"Saruman."  
"Yes."  
"The head of your order, you are a traitor to the cause for which you should be fighting."  
He smiled slightly.   
"There is no way to stop Sauron. The wisest choice is to join him. Now, Aine, child of nameless descent, tell me: your company no longer possesses the One Ring. Where is It?"  
"You think I would speak of that to you?"  
"If so properly persuaded."  
"There is nothing you can do to me that has not already been done, Saruman. What have I left to fear?"  
"Things Time may tell." He rose, and walked to the Seeing Sphere, combing his hand over the air in around it. The Eye rose to the surface of the misty ball. There was a long silence and at last Saruman spoke.   
"There is one. The only thing you have left to fear and you do not know what that is." He began to walk out of the room, then turned:  
"My Uruk-hai ride out immediately. You will be half-healed when they return." I lost consciousness.   
  
* * *   
  
Aine was half-asleep when they brought Aragorn in. At his cry, she awoke. She looked up to see him being dragged across the floor by two Uruk-hai. They pulled him by a chain that was clamped around his neck and wrists. The moment they stopped, he wrenched himself halfway free of them and tried to reach her, but was hauled back and forced to his knees.   
Saruman entered.   
"A grief-stricken man is not difficult to catch, for he is weak. A future king is still only a man. Release him."  
The Uruk-hai unchained him and he rushed to Aine. As he was only a few feet from her, however, an invisible force flipped him from his feet. The Uruk-hai approached, unbidden, and their leader flung the broad side of his sword across Aragorn's shoulders. The blow was so forceful that blood began to flow. Aragorn stood and prepared himself to fight hand to hand if necessary, for he would die if it would by any rare chance save her…   
The first slash came across his chest, from collar-bone to navel and he stumbled, but rose again quickly. Aine screamed.   
"Let it be, Aragorn!"   
Saruman only watched.   
One of the Uruk-hai approached Aine and prepared to hit her. He was stopped short by Aragorn, however, who crashed his shoulders into the Uruk-hai full-force and knocked him backwards. He began to fight him furiously, but two others closed and acted similarly, their fists pummeling him from all sides, forcing him to his knees. He rose again, swaying.   
They were toying with him, and it made Aine sick.   
"God, Aragorn, stop! Just let it be!" She cried, and struggled in vain against her own bonds. A second uruk-hai approached her from the other side, but again, Aragorn beat it to her. The second slash came full down his back. This time he did not fall, however, and had his well-muscled abdomen slit for it. He was a bloody mess, but he stood over her, swaying.   
One of the Uruk-hai grabbed him, pulling him a few paces from her. He set him on his knees. Aragorn could only feebly resist. He tried to rally his forces, angry at his own weakness. She caught his eye -   
  
He was a wreck, bloodied and beat. I felt pain that he should be so cowed like this, so humiliated, the future king of Gondor.   
  
Saruman spoke.   
"Now you must make your decision, Aine. To save the man you love, or to save the country that you love. Make your choice." The blade of a Uruk-hai was placed under Aragorn's throat.   
His eyes locked with Aine's.   
No, he mouthed. The tears continued to flow from her eyes.   
"You cannot ask me to make that decision," she said.   
"I just have."   
"Aine -" she heard him whisper. "Save Middle Earth - it is one person or a world. You know the decision."   
She shuddered. One of the Uruk-hai cracked a whip across Aragorn's back.   
"Silence!"  
She looked at him and mouthed, I love you.  
I love you too.   
Aine looked at Saruman.   
"You know my decision."  
Two Uruk-hai snatched up Aragorn and dragged him from the room.   
"He will be dragged to his death," said Saruman. "You may still save him, if you speak -"  
Aine was silent. She wished suddenly, vehemently, that they should kill her as well.   
It was at that moment that Saruman fell. He tipped forward and the arrow in his back became visible. I recognized the feathering. It was elven.   
  
* * *   
  
Legolas lifted Aragorn's beaten body from the fallen mass of Uruk-hai and leaped on his horse, spurring him away. Three hundred elves or more swarmed about him. Ten or so raced into the hallway, shooting Saruman and the three remaining Uruk-hai. Two raced to free Aine.   
  
"Have you seen either of the two hobbits taken by the orcs?" asked one of them, who, to my surprise, I recognized to be Haldir.   
"No, I haven't left this room," I said, anxiously, and then, to the great surprise of all, I leapt to my feet.   
"We thought you near death!"  
"I was - but Saruman healed me enough to fully see what he would do to Aragorn," I said, turning her head away, disgustedly. "He wanted me strong, but helpless. Where is Aragorn!?"  
"Legolas has already ridden out with him."  
I raced out of the tower and into the broad sunlight, where a mass of elves and a few last Uruk-hai stood fighting. The battle was close from being over, and I smiled. A group of horses stood on the outside of the courtyard where the battle raged and I leapt upon one, crying to Haldir -  
"I ride after Aragorn!"  
I hammered my heels into the animal's side and he took off, low to the ground, engulfing land in huge strides, tearing up the earth behind him.   
"Nirolim, nirolim asfolath!" I whispered into his ear, and if possible, he galloped faster. I knew Legolas would make for Lothlórien, and I hoped to overtake him before he reached it. I knew he would have to rest the horse at some point, or it would drop before it reached its destination. I wished for Shadowfax, or my own Illian. I knew not where either of them where.   
Slowly, a dark form began to come into vision on the far edge of the rocky plain. I knew it must be Aragorn and Legolas. As I approached them, I leapt off my horse, who was breathing heavily and lathered.   
I looked over to Legolas who gave me a pained expression.   
"He has not regained consciousness since Orthanc."  
I knelt by Aragorn. Legolas had covered him with a light blanket, but he was shaking slightly, and was so pale, where it not for his shivering, I would have thought him dead. His breathing was shallow and irregular. He was steeped in blood; it seemed there was no place it did not touch him.   
"I fear he will not live the night," said Legolas, softly. "But my horse can go no further."  
I felt hot tears slip down my cheeks.   
"Aragorn … please, no…" He had been willing to sacrifice everything to save this cause, and it had in the end defeated him. What he had said to me the night I had told him about my past came back to me, and I felt it now about him: "I wish that I could erase your past, for you are undeserving of it. I can think of no one who more deserves a peaceful one." There had to be some way to stop him from slipping away from me once again …  
"Aine -" Legolas broke into my small circle of pain. I looked up.   
"I still have the Ring of Nenya."  
"I know. I will relieve you of your burden."  
"I would not ask you to carry It again. You carry so many cares. I will not add to them."   
"Oh, Legolas -" my voice broke and he pulled me into his arms and rocked me while I sobbed.   
"I love him, Legolas. I love him! I love him!" I couldn't stop saying it.   
"Shh ... shh…it's going to be all right," Legolas soothed. Slowly, I calmed myself, but did not move from his embrace.   
"Saruman - he made me choose. He made me choose between Aragorn and the One Ring. I had to choose the Ring, but I would have regretted my decision either way. He fought for me-"   
Legolas hummed softly, then began to sing.   
  
May it be an evening star  
shines down upon you.  
May it be when darkness falls,   
your heart will be true.   
You walk a lonely road,   
oh how far you are from home …  
  
"You taught that to me, in the very beginning before the Mines of Moria. It has stuck with me since, and I see now that it has been in so many ways fulfilled. Your hearts were true - you made the right choice, and Aragorn would agree with me."  
"He made me," I said, dully.   
"Yes," Legolas said firmly.  
I sighed.   
"Whatever happens, you will have done all you could, and you will have taken the right path."  
"Have I? Have I done all I could? Could I have mislead Saruman to the location of the Ring?" Alternate options began to flow through my mind.  
"He would have killed him anyway. If Aragorn dies, he will not die at the hands of Saruman, and he will not die a dishonorable death."  
  
* * *   
  
Aragorn began to go as the moon crept full to the peak of the sky.   
"Aragorn! Aragorn!" Aine cried, pulling him into her arms. Legolas walked a few paces off, trying to give her some space.   
Slowly, she remembered an old prayer, said over the half-dead, that bound the two together, that might perhaps save them. She whispered it now.  
"What grace is given me … let it pass to him. Let him be spared…"  
Suddenly, there was a thundering of hoof beats and out of the night fog came galloping Alinea. Aine gave a cry of surprise. She lifted Aragorn gently onto his back and swung on herself. Throwing a wave to Legolas, she took off.   
It was a journey that would last all day and all night, but Aine knew Alinea would need no rest, for she was an Illian horse, with enduring stamina. The goodness and power around her was so strong that it seeped into Aine and gave her strength. She prayed it would do the same for Aragorn.   
"Hold on, darling, hold on… nirolim, nirolim, asfolath…"  
  
* * *   
  
I galloped into Lothlórien and several elves ran out at the disruption.   
"Please!" I begged. "The Lady Galadriel. Elessar is close to death."  
I felt her and heard her voice in my head before I saw her.   
You bring him here to save him, for you have sacrificed all for the sake of your World.   
I would ask her if I had made the right decision.   
The rightness of your choice can only be determined by your own heart. Only you can tell.  
She walked slowly towards us. Aragorn still rested on Alinea. Galadriel spoke softly in elvish and two elves moved silently towards Aragorn and lifted him off Alinea. I tried to follow, but Galadriel spoke again. I was too tired to translate what she said. Suddenly immensely relieved I felt myself floating, almost. A third elf lifted me gently off my feet. I managed to mumble,   
"Send a horse back for Legolas…" before I fainted.   
  
Aine came slowly back to consciousness, trying to make sense of the blurred figures around her. She groaned slightly, and things began to come into focus. She lay in a long white bed in the cleanest, most light-filled room she had ever seen. An elf sat watch at the foot of the four poster canopy.   
"Gracious, you're awake," she said, cheerfully, in an elven-tone unfamiliar to Aine. "You've been asleep on near two days now. But you carried much weariness and sorrow. It is unsurprising."   
"Aragorn … where is he?" Aine asked.  
The nurse chuckled.   
"Legolas said you might ask of him first. He will be fine, but he has much healing left to do. He has not woken yet."  
"Can I see him?"  
"Not yet. You are not to stand today."  
"Has Legolas arrived? Did you send horses back for him?"  
"You have no care for your own health? Yes, he has returned. Do you wish to speak with him?"  
"Yes."  
The nurse left and in a moment Legolas returned in her stead. He smiled when he saw her propped up.   
"We thought you'd never awaken. Gimli is here as well. A troop of elves have temporarily taken up the search for Merry and Pippin for us and the other day one returned with joyous news."  
"What?"  
"Gandalf the White had arisen."  
"Oh!" Aine was speechless for a moment.   
"Merry and Pippin are with the Ents."  
"This indeed is happy news. Legolas - "  
She looked up at him.   
"Thank you. You have done so much for me. I don't know how I can ever repay you, and will forever be in your debt."   
He smiled.   
"I would not ask you to, for your life is repayment enough."   
She sighed.   
"I wish I could see Aragorn."   
"Soon. Galadriel has cared for him well."   
"I know. I do not doubt her."   
  
I slipped back into anxious dreams that would not cease until I saw Aragorn again. When I again returned to conciousness, the same nurse sat at the foot of my bed.   
"Awake again?" she asked. I nodded and surveyed her. She had a scar across her shoulder and shoulder length brown hair. She was fair-skinned, like all elves, but she had a hardened look about her. She caught me staring and smiled.   
"I've been rude," I apologized. "I am called Aine."  
She nodded her head in a slight bow and responded,  
"I am Erindil of Mirkwood."  
"You are scarred -"  
"Long story."  
"Most good stories are."  
Erindil smiled.  
"You, yourself are scarred deeper than I. I feel it, when Galadriel is in the room."  
I turned my face slightly away. Then I looked back.   
"What happened?"  
"An orc blade. A year or so ago."   
I raised my eyebrows, surprised, but not skeptical.   
"I've not heard of you."  
"I'm little known," said Erindil. "It was a small skirmish. Short and bloody. Legolas tells me it does not compare to many of your own battles."  
"You speak of him as if you know him well."  
"I suppose you could say that."  
Suddenly, I grinned, understanding.   
"You are the maiden he sings of late at night when he fancies the rest of us sleep."  
"I cannot prove or disprove that, but I would hope so. Were it not for this coming darkness, we would wed soon."  
"Then you have my trust," I said. "And my respect. Any who can fight alongside of Legolas and have his love, is well deserving of it."   
Erindil smiled.   
"You also speak as if you know him well."  
"He has been a friend to me. I would not have survived were it not for him -- he -- comforted me, when I thought I had lost Aragorn."  
"Who you love."  
"Yes."   
  
The day Aragorn awoke was the day I was allowed to rise and wander about Lothlórien. It was a beautiful place, and I felt its healing powers enveloping me. As I was wandering the corridors, Elindil approached me and told me that Elessar had asked for me. I hurried after her and into the room she indicated.   
Aragorn lay in a room similar to mine. He was bandaged and lay low on the sheets. He looked up as soon as I entered. I stood frozen in the doorway for a long moment and then raced to the bedside and lowered myself beside him.   
He smiled at me.   
"It relieves me to see you well."  
I couldn't speak, but I didn't have to, because he leaned forward and enveloped me in a much-needed kiss. When we finally broke apart, I smiled at him.   
"I thought I'd lost you -"   
His face suddenly turned grim.   
"I feared the same for you when the Uruk-hai took you. I will never forgive myself for not following. I felt most certainly that you had died, but I was wrong - I should have followed." I stopped him, laying a finger across his lips.   
"I gave you up to death, a decision both right and horrible."   
"Aine - I love you." His voice was simple and matter-of-fact.   
"I know. I love you, too."  
  
I wandered the corridors, having nothing else to do, but let the soothing, healing balm of Lórien flow over me. I wasn't looking where I was going, when I almost ran into a hooded figure that was somehow familiar. I looked closely. The purple eyes gave whoever it was away.   
"You!" I gasped in surprise.   
"Aine," said the figure, a smile in his voice.   
Suddenly, Legolas appeared.   
"Aljina!" he cried.   
I looked from one to other.   
"You know one another?" I asked.   
"Well, in fact. We grew up together," said Legolas.  
"You did not say you knew him when we first met."  
At this Legolas laughed.   
"I did not realize who it was until later. And she is not a he."  
The figure dropped her hood and I looked upon a young woman, a few years in my junior, with bright red hair and a slight grin on her lips. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Then I smiled.   
"Aljina … I would like to extend my gratitude for alerting us to those orcs."  
Aljina smiled.   
"Pleased to, Aine of Aragonath."  
"Of Aragornath?"  
"It is the title Galadriel has called you."  
"Aragornath." I tried the word out on my tongue.   
"The place of kings," said Legolas, smiling.   
"A heritage…" my voice was soft.   
  
When Aragorn had retained enough strength to get out of bed, they would take long, slow walks down the soothing paths of Lothlórien. Rarely speaking, kissing often. They were content to sit for hours, simply holding each other. Aragorn couldn't come to terms with how much he loved her. His luck in their mutual survival amazed him. All he wanted to do was watch her, hold her, memorize her every feature. Her long brown hair that swung around her hips, her trim waist, her face… It gave him a feeling of peace, and he knew, suddenly, that everything would work out the way it was meant to.   
  
I looked down at the ring on my hand. One of the three elven rings. Had it done any to help me? Or was it's use still in store? Suddenly, it represented fate to me. The feeling that things would be that were meant to be. I looked up to Aragorn and knew he was thinking the same thing.   
  
The End 


	2. 

::sighs::  
Guess I have to respond to some of the reviews I've been getting. They are basically all the same, so I am just going to respond to them in general. The main thing people seem to have a problem with is my "Mary Sue". I want to know WHY people have a problem with them? It's called creative expression. No one seems to have heard of those two words. Additionally, one of my reviewers said: "Okay, first off let me state why people read fan-fic: Because they love persons, places, and plotlines to be found in the original work." Okay, well, um why don't you go read the book then, if all you want is a regurgitation. There's nothing wrong with going a creative direction with things. Yes, there are differences in my story than in Tolkien's work: Arwen is not in love with Aragorn, has never been, and it is the same for him. He hasn't "forgotten" her. Oh yeah, and I added a new place to a fantasy world. The key word here is "fantasy" ... it's NOT REAL! Hate to break it to ya'll, but it's not! Also, I realize Legolas wasn't romantically attached in the book. But in my story, he is, because it's fiction, and I happen to want him to be. Also, yes I know, Boromir doesn't have that big of a part, but that's not because I have anything against Boromir, he just wasn't as important to the central plot line as some of the other characters. Also, I have never once in the entire story said Aine is more beautiful than Arwen. Find me where I said that, and you will have a case. I just said Aragorn thought she was beautiful. Now, my "Mary Sue" ( I think that is somewhat of an offensive name for a fictional character, but whatever) ... keeping a share of narrative attention that I myself find unwarranted - particularly towards the end. And as for the plot which I love so dearly... dear, I may have missed something but what became of Frodo and the One Ring?" Hmmm... maybe she has narrative attention because the story is about her? There's a shocker! Also, it doesn't follow Frodo very closely because the story ends towards the beginning of "The Two Towers", a little after Gandalf has arisen and Merry and Pippin have come into the company of the Ents. Oh, and I have read the other two books ... i just decided to write a fic changing it a little not because I think my version is better (that's impossible -- I agree with yall when you say Tolkien is a master), but because it looked like fun to write.   
Still, I am proud of it and feel I need to defend it. A few more things before I close -- she isn't all powerful, she has weaknesses, and if she upstaged other characters that's because shes the heroine. And as for my mistakes in plot things, and elvish, (Ex: *Why would Galadriel willingly GIVE AWAY the very thing that is helping to protect Lothlorien from certain doom? That's right Nenya shields Laurelindorenan from unfriendly eyes., *"Noro lim" means ride hard, or faster. Asfaloth is the name of Glorfindel's horse (in the movie Asfaloth is Arwen's horse) and is not an addition to the statement.) thanks for those corrections - if I decide to do a corrected version, I will fix those problems and try to find a way for Nenya not to leave Lorien. But I have no need to become so obsessed with the story that I can't even read a fiction (about a FICTION) without freaking out, like some people ... anyhow, I'm done ranting, hope this letter has cleared things up a little. ~ Author 


	3. PART II: CH 1

Meant to Be  
A Rewrite of "The Two Towers"  
Part Two  
  
As Aragorn regained his health quickly, the evil in the air surrounding Lorien seemed to grow. The elves kept to themselves, avoiding us. Aragorn met them only quietly, and never told me what was said, until one morning, after we were both ready to ride out again.   
"I ride to Helm's Deep," he said, decisively. " Tonight." Before I had a chance to speak, he added,   
"Alone."  
"What?"  
"I want you to stay here in Lorien."   
"Aragorn - I - no!"  
He cupped a finger around my chin.   
"I don't want you wandering into danger again. I won't risk losing you."  
"Aragorn, this is my battle as much as yours. I want to fight it just as badly."  
"Regardless, it's not safe."  
"Of course it's not safe! I don't want to lose you Aragorn, and I'd be happier there, near you, than waiting back here, wondering if you're alive or dead."   
"You will have to wonder. I won't have you at Helm's Deep. I'll have you watched to make sure you stay, if I must."  
"Aragorn!" I felt my cheeks grow hot with anger. He held up a hand, asking me not to become angry. He was too late, however, and the temper that I had before channeled into the quest was unleashed on him.   
"This is my fight! You know what I watched, you know my story! I cannot sit here in Lorien while the rest of the world fights my own enemy! I will not, and you will not keep me here!"   
There was a frozen silence. I was instantly sorry for yelling at him, because the cares that I had saw somewhat soothed here in Lorien, suddenly returned to his handsome features. His face became tired, lined, and grim. My remorse made me no less unwilling to back down, however. I watched him, silently, and he looked at me, as well.   
"I would not have you wander so willingly into danger if I did not know why you must go. I am sorry for forgetting your reasons." His voice was wooden, mechanical.   
"Aragorn, I'm sorry -" I said, touching his arm. "I would not cause you grief, if it weren't so vital. I just - must."   
"I know," he said, his voice softening. "I know."  
  
The rest of the afternoon was consumed with our preparations. We would depart that evening, and there was much to do. Lembas must be packed, bedrolls, and other supplies. Not to mention the weaponry. Even Aragorn was induced to chuckle when he saw me. I stood by Alinea, who had returned to me in Lorien, sword on my waist, scimitar hooked to her saddle, and a bow and quiver across my back.   
"This time," he said. "I will not call your dagger into action."  
"I have the feeling we've done this before," I said, with a smile. He grinned, a rare occurrence. It made me sad, for I rarely saw him smile. I could count the times on one hand. The effect was startling: his features became light and young, his eyes, not so dark. For that brief moment, he seemed to shine.   
"'You are well armed -- sword, bow, quiver, scimitar…'" he quoted.  
"'I take no chances,'" I responded, and tossed the dagger lightly from my boot. This time he was ready for me, however, and caught my wrist before it had reached the boot, pulled it up and slung half of my body over his shoulder, twirled me around and set me down again. I shrieked, beat lightly on his back, and as he dropped me to the ground, I yanked him down with me. We sat, laughing, in the dust for a moment, while Alinea regarded us imperiously. As our chuckles gradually subsided, Aragorn said,   
"It's so long since I have seen you smile."  
"It's odd, because I was thinking the same of you."  
He gave a wry smile, the one I recognized.   
"In these times, I find myself finding less and less to smile at…"  
"It is too little," I agreed, sadly. I looked down at the ring on my hand, and suddenly recalled something Galadriel had said to Frodo, a thought which he had passed on to me:   
"You are a ring bearer, Frodo. To bear a ring of power is to be alone." I was beginning to realize how true that was, and it saddened me. I felt the power of the Ring of Nenya claiming me. I would never be fully my own, despite the goodness of the ring. I wondered again, what purpose the ring held.   
Aragorn stood up and brushed the dirt off of him. He extended a hand and pulled me up.   
"No tricks this time," I said.   
"No," he said, tonelessly. The mask he so often wore, hiding what he truly thought, was back. I saw it, even before I had recognized what he was hiding. His own despair, his own doubts and fears, that our cause might fail, were hidden behind that mask. He was not afraid of dying, and he was only partially afraid of losing me. What he feared the most was losing his heritage, his country, his people. Gondor, and Middle Earth, for they were the two things most precious to him. Land was the only thing that mattered, for it was the only thing that lasted. And it was from that land, that nations grew, and from the land that people prospered and lived. To lose that land, was Aragorn's greatest fear. I saw it in his eyes, I saw it behind the mask, and I feared his fear. He would never speak of it.   
  
* * *   
  
Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and I rode out of Lórien directly after supper and began to journey to Helm's Deep. The trip began mostly uneventful, and mostly silent. The three of us spoke little, for we all knew what awaited us at Helm's Deep, None of us, even I, relished the thought of going there. None of us could be kept away, but we rued that we were needed at all.   
We rode through the plains of Rohan, moving swiftly, and silently. As we came upon a ridge, looking down on the unpoisoned parts of the Isen, there was the combined sound of thundering hooves and the chattering of people. To the East, a group of men, women, and children approached.   
"Legolas - what do your elf-eyes tell you of this group?" Aragorn commanded. Legolas looked sharply to the group, his eyes seeming to penetrate the few leagues between us.  
"A group of peasants. They bear the flag of the Ridermark."  
"Friend, then," said Aragorn. He turned to the sounds of hooves from the West. As the sound came closer, we realized they were not hooves. Suddenly, the wolves of Mordor burst over the ridge, ridden by orcs. The four of us immediately drew blade. There were nine wolves and we each mentally marked two or three. The wolves were strong and they covered the distance between us in great bounding leaps and flung themselves at us. From that moment on I had no chance to see how my comrades fared, for I was too hard pressed to keep my own head upon my shoulders. The first wolf came at me and flung himself into Alinea. She whinnied angrily and spun on her hocks to dispel the beast before he could sink his teeth into her. I took the opportunity to bring my sword down on the orc riding him. He fell, blood pouring from the wound on his skull. The wolf was on his feet again in an instant, however, heedless of the death of his master. He snapped his jaws at us. As I raised my blade, a second Morgoth bowled me completely off of Alinea's back. I was flung over the first and landed hard on the ground a few feet away. The both bore down on me. I clutched for my sword and sank it deep into the chest of one of them. He howled in pain and backed away, not quite dead, but no longer a serious threat. The second wolf and orc, however, were only a few feet away. I scrambled backwards, trying to get to my feet, realizing quickly that it was futile. I would have to fight from the ground. The wolf lunged at my legs, scraping his teeth along then. I yanked them out of the way just in time and managed to keep both appendages. The miscalculated lunge left the Morgoth in a vulnerable position and I slit his throat. The orc rolled off of him, and we came face to face as I stood. There was a clang of metal as our blades met and then a growl of frustration from the orc. We battled fiercely for only a few moments before I brought him to the ground. I took in the scene around me. Only two Morgoth remained and it appeared that Legolas and Gimli had them under control. The bodies of orcs and Morgoth lay strewn about. I saw one move on the crest of the hill, obviously still alive. I raced up the incline to him, prepared to slay him, when suddenly Legolas' voice rang out.   
"Stay that sword!" I froze, mid-thrust and stepped back. Legolas came up by me.   
"Aragorn! Have you seen him?" I looked about me.   
"No –"   
The orc hissed something, low in his throat, half-words, half chuckle.   
"What was that?" I asked, sharply.   
The orc chuckled again, even through the veil of death that was beginning to cover him.   
"He went over the edge," said the orc. I shuddered at the foul voice. It brought back memories that I didn't want to remember.   
"What are you talking about?" asked Legolas, angrily.   
"The king you speak of, he has fallen." There was a malicious joy on the face of the dying orc. "He is dead."  
"You lie!" said Legolas, angrily.  
The orc laughed his last breath. I ran to the edge. Nothing. There was no sign of Aragorn. I sucked in my breath. Not again … Legolas cast a quick glance in my direction. I met his glance, steeling myself. I would not fall apart this time. If I had lost him – I would die inside, I realized, but no one on the outside should know. Silently, I walked away from the crest of the hill and whistled. Alinea appeared and I swung onto her back.   
"I will ride down to the shore and look for him. If I don't find him within the hour, I will return. We cannot tarry here," I said.  
"No," said Legolas. "There is no way down from here, no way to the shore. Too much time would pass for you to find a place to descend. We dare not hope. The fall would have killed even the strongest of men."  
"He was," I whispered.   
"Come," said Legolas. He pulled Gimli up after him. "Come!" he said, more sharply. I jerked myself back to my senses and followed him. We approached the Rohan peasants. Legolas saluted him.   
"What business have you, traveling thus?" he asked.   
"We make for the protection of Helm's Deep," said their leader. "The forces of Saruman gather against us."   
"We ask to ride with you, for that is our destination as well," said Legolas.   
"And who are you?" spoke a woman standing by the flag-bearer.   
"I am Legolas, of Mirkwood, and this is Gimli, son of Gloin. The woman is called Aine. And who are you?"  
"I am Eowyn, daughter of the king of Rohan." Legolas nodded. "You have permission to ride with us, Legolas of Mirkwood, for you and your companions are known to us."   
We assimilated into the group, walking slowly and quietly, matching the pace of the tired peasants. I rode up by Eowyn, questions in my mind.   
"What awaits us at Helm's Deep?" I questioned. "Is this the first group, or the only?"  
"The last. The king and his soldiers already await there."  
"What news have you of Gandalf the White, or did you not know he has arisen?"  
"We knew this, yes. We have seen him at Rohan, for he has brought life back to our king, who was consumed by the evil power of Saruman. He has ridden off, saying only to look to the East on the dawn of the fifth day."  
I absorbed this information in silence.   
"And yourself?" she questioned. "You ride from Lorien, this much we know. But the son of Arathorn was to ride with you. His leadership in battle is well-known. We hoped for his aid."  
My face fell.   
"Aragorn … fell, only a few moments ago. We were beset by the wolves of Isengaurd." Eowyn's face became saddened.   
"His support will be sorely missed."  
"He will be sorely missed," I said, softly.   
"You speak of him as a friend."  
"He was a dear friend." I had no desire to speak of Aragorn, and I rode back to Legolas and Gimli.   
"How many leagues to Helm's Deep?" I asked.   
"Ar-" Gimli cut himself short, then coughed self consciously. "Fifteen miles, or so from this point."  
"Then we are close," said Legolas. "Look to the ridge," he said, suddenly. "I can see it in the distance." It was not quite visible to my eyes, but did not doubt Legolas' keen eyesight.   
  
We rode up the ramp to the fortress of Helm's Deep, a pitiful group of weary travelers, crying babies, and saddened warriors. The king stepped out to meet us. His eyes lighted on Gimli, Legolas, and me almost immediately, riding up front. He searched the crowd, surely for Aragorn, and Legolas rode up to him. He dismounted and bowed low.   
"My Lord, I regret to inform you of the death of Aragorn, son of Arathorn. He will not join us in this battle."  
Theodin shook his head sadly.   
"This is grievous news indeed."   
Legolas bowed again and backed away. We stabled the horses and rested. On the next morning, we met with Theodin, along with the rest of his councils and generals.   
"We have three hundred peasants, against the Uruk-Hai of Saruman," said one general gloomily.   
"Not only peasants, for we have our own soldiers of the Ridermark," said another angrily. "And they are peasants willing to fight for their own country, for their people!"   
"The true soldiers of the Ridermark were banished at the hands of Wormtongue!" the first cried. "Eomer was the true general of our people!"   
There was a sudden cry of angry disapproval from the rest of the men in the room. Legolas, Gimli, and I sat quietly in the corner. Gimli growled quietly,  
"Most of these peasants have seen too many winters…"  
"Or too few," added Legolas. "They are no soldiers." I said nothing, my face a blank. My mind was still on Aragorn, and the pain I had borne the night before. My eyes had been swollen from crying and I had had to wash them with cool water to hide the effects. It seemed only Legolas could tell of my pain. My thoughts strayed from the events at hand, and I wondered where Frodo and Sam were, if they were safe, if they continued the quest to Mount Doom. I knew Frodo would toil at it until the end of his time here on earth. I was tired, tired of this fight, yet my physical being begged to be unleashed against the upcoming battle. I both anticipated it and dreaded it. My feelings were muddled.   
As we sat in the hall, there was a sudden sound of clattering hooves on the cobblestones outside. We all looked up, and one of the generals made a move for the huge double wooden doors. Before he had reached them, however, they were flung open and a long figure staggered in, backlit against the brilliantly bright sunset. He strode forth, into a shadow, and I saw it to be Aragorn. I gave a cry of shock. He turned tired eyes to meet mine, and he smiled. I rushed to him. Legolas strode up first however, and stood in front of him. I stepped back deferentially.   
"You're late," he said in elvish, with a smile. Then,   
"You look terrible."  
They placed their hands on one another's shoulders, then Legolas stepped back. I walked to him, and hugged him.   
"I cannot believe this-" I said. "To come so close to losing you again, only to have you returned to me."  
Aragorn said nothing, only stepped back and approached Theodin.   
"Saruman has massed an army, tens of thousands strong," he said, without preamble.   
"You know this?"  
"I have seen it with my own eyes."  
A deadly quiet pressed down on the company. Tens of thousands … against three hundred.   
  
* * *  
  
The people at Helm's Deep could hear the army of Saruman while they were still miles off. The sound of iron-clad boots tramping on solid ground reverberated into the very heart of the fortress and shook the resolve of the people. Tens of thousands … Within, weapons were being given to anyone who could wield one. As Legolas and Gimli had said, Too many or too few winters. Aragorn and I stood, watching the proceedings. He had been quiet, distant, and I knew he was deeply disturbed. Neither of us said a word. Because of the crash of metal and the babble of the multiple conversations going in the room, the footsteps of Saruman's army were temporarily silenced. It was a relief for our nerves, not to hear the steps, growing steadily closer. Nightfall was fast approaching. A boom of thunder sounded from the outside, and the rains would soon begin to fall.   
Legolas approached us. He spoke to Aragorn in elvish.   
"This is folly. It is three hundred peasants against tens of thousands of Uruk-Hai. This battle cannot be won."  
"They will fight for their king, for their country," said Aragorn, tonelessly.   
"They are afraid, I see it in their eyes. They will all die!" said Legolas, furiously.   
Aragorn's face contorted and he broke into the common tongue.   
"Then I will die as one of them!" he roared. Heads turned. Fear reflected from them, and it was obvious that they knew what the conversation had been about, despite it's foreign tongue. Aragorn strode angrily from the room. Legolas started to go after him, but Gimli caught his arm.   
"Let him go, lad." Legolas obeyed. I bit my lip, but did not follow Aragorn. There seemed no way I could help him. He was so out of reach, angry at the weakness around him, furious at the imminent defeat. I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. I cast weary, disappointed eyes to Legolas, and walked away, to the outer walls of the fortress. Night had fallen and a driving rain had commenced. The torches of the enemy were now visible in the distance. I sighed audibly, and watched the pinpricks of light grow brighter and bigger. I shifted my weight and knew I must soon go below and remove the dress I wore on the outside of my riding habit. I would not have the long skirts hindering me in the upcoming battle. I would be more comfortable if this was to be a cavalry fight: I always felt more secure of Alinea. During these sorts of fights, there was also no need to spark a controversy by wearing pants. I drew my sword and swung it a few times. It reflected the light from a near-by torch bearer. I spun around, bobbing lightly, and to my surprise and clang of metal met my blade. Aragorn stood in front of me. I dropped my blade and sheathed it. He returned his curved dagger to its own sheath on his hip. There was a long silence.  
"You seem as prepared as any for tonight," I said, at last. There was no real purpose to my words, only to break the silence.   
"I will not have you joining me," he said, flatly. I frowned and opened my mouth furiously. He stopped me before I could speak.   
"The battle tonight will be no common affair. I do not expect any on top to survive the night. If things become too dangerous, the women and children will refugee through the back of the mountain. You will go with them."  
"You think you can order me about so carelessly!" I cried, angrily.   
"You will heed my orders." His voice left no room for argument, but I began to regardless. This time, however, Aragorn was not to be swayed by my angry words.  
"This is not a woman's fight, and it is a fight I wish to protect you from. I will not see you wander so needlessly into a battle in which you are not wanted!" he was half-shouting now.  
"Since when have you become to protective of what fights I will and will not fight? Since when has it become your decision?"   
He chose not to respond to my question. He turned and walked away. After a few steps he turned, and looked back.   
"You will be in your place at the start of the battle if I have to carry you there myself. You have fifteen minutes more on the wall, before I want you below."   
He did not wait for a response, only walked away, footsteps heavy and burdened. I stood fuming for a moment more, and weighed my options. The urge to disobey was strong, but I had to admit that after Theodin, Aragorn was in charge. I should observe his orders, if not for myself, as an example. I stormed downstairs. Despite my decision, I was still angry with him. I came into the hall on the lowest level where the women and children were. My eyes met Eowyn's across the room. I saw the frustration in my own being mirrored in her eyes. I located a quiet spot and sat down.   
  
* * *  
  
Less than two hours later, the tramping had grown so loud that it was as an endless wave of thunder. Most of the small children were in tears, and the women's eyes were terrified, wondering whether they would ever see their men folk again. I had my own fears and doubts, for I was afraid for Aragorn. The dankness in the air gave away the rainstorm above. It was not long before the screams of the battle rose over the din of boots and rain and thunder. The women clutched their children to their breasts and prayed. I stood alone by the door, praying. I shivered as there was the first, unmistakable war cry of the Uruks, in unison.   
The battle had started.   
  
* * *  
  
It seemed we waited beneath the walls of Helm's Deep for an interminable age. The sounds of the battle roared overhead. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the wounded began to pour in. Those who could not walk were borne by their comrades, who silently deposited them, and then returned to the hell above. The floors were soaked in blood as the women tried to administer as much care as possible. I guiltily searched each face, praying I would not see Aragorn. We cared for them as much as possible, but so many, oh so many died. I remembered what Eowyn had said Gandalf had said: "Look for my coming on the dawn of the fifth day." How many days had passed since then? How long had the battle lasted? The battle cries overhead made me shiver both with fear and anger. I wanted desperately to take my frustration over the dead out on the living Uruk-hai. Each soldier we asked for news, but we could only gain snatches. I stood by the door, ushering the wounded in, directing them to places to rest, and assisting some. I was shocked, however, when an elf, strange to me, entered the room, bearing a young boy across his shoulders. He saw the surprise on my face as I noted the warrior's garb. He smiled ever so slightly.   
"We are from Lorien, led by Haldir."  
"Haldir!" I said, shocked, removing the boy from his shoulders.   
The elf's face fell.   
"He has fallen, I fear." I closed my eyes in a moment of silent grief, then quickly opened them.   
"Please, what news of the battle?"  
"We fare badly. The Uruk-hai are many, and our dead are mounting."  
"What day is it?"  
"It is the fourth evening," he said, knowing immediately of what I spoke.   
"You think that we cannot win this battle," I said.   
"I do," said the elf, grimly, before turning on his heel and returning above. I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to disobey Aragorn and join the fight above. My eyes passed over the hundreds of wounded lying next to one another on the floor. My decision was made. Without speaking, I walked to the far corner of the chamber. Slipping of the dress over my riding garb, I pulled on my pair of tall boots that stood by my things. I donned my sword and bow, and slid my scimitar into the sheath across by back. Eowyn saw me, from where she attended a fallen soldier with an arrow through the shoulder. I caught her glance and threw her a grim smile. I half-jogged up the flights of stairs and walked out into the stormy night. Arrows flew in every direction, and Uruk-hai stood as far as the eye could see. The dead from both armies lay piled at the base of the walls. I drew blade and raced to the walls and began to aid the soldiers shoving back the hundreds of ladders. The men were so involved that they barely gave me a second glance. They were being defeated and they knew it. But they would fight to the death. Suddenly, a huge explosion wracked the structure.   
"THEY'RE BREAKING THROUGH!" cried someone. I saw the king, standing on a turret a few yards above me.   
"RETREAT!" he cried. "THEY'VE BROKEN INTO THE HORNBURG! RETREAT!" Orcs poured over the walls like water over a dam and the Eorlings and elves poured backwards towards the keep, and I ran with them. They began to barricade the doors, as the Uruk-hai crashed against them. It took me several moments to realize that Aragorn was in the same room. He cast me a furious glance, but it was quickly diverted.   
They were going to break through any moment, and the battle would be over. We all knew it. I twisted my face, trying to think of some way out of the mess we were in. There had to be some way to beat back the Uruk-hai from this entrance. Suddenly, it occurred to me. I raced out of the hall and to where the horses were stabled. Alinea was in her stall, and I barely took the time to sling a bridal on her, before leaping on, and tearing down the hallway in the opposite direction. If I remembered correctly, there was a small door on the wall, several yards from the bridge. If I was lucky. I could get Alinea out of the door, and jump her to the bridge, and battle the Uruk-hai back from the outside. The same thought must have occurred to Aragorn and Gimli, however, because as I came tearing out of the door on horseback, I nearly knocked the two of them off of the wall.   
"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" asked Aragorn.   
"No," I said. He laughed a little, then looked to Gimli.   
"It's a long way," he said. Gimli peered around the edge and made a face. He muttered something under his breath.   
"What?" asked Aragorn, incredulously.   
"I cannot make the distance, you'll have to toss me!" he growled. I almost laughed. Aragorn nodded, attempting to keep a straight face despite the situation. He was about to grab Gimli who said,   
"Ah -- Aine, Aragorn -- don't tell the elf."  
"Not a word," said Aragorn. I nodded. Aragorn tossed the dwarf and leaped after him. They quickly got out of my way as I spurred Alinea across. 


End file.
